


MERCENARY TALES

by big_scrunch, Gretschdoll, imlonelyalready, Poputchikz, urotsu



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Crime, Fanart, Gen, Mercenaries, Pulp, magazine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_scrunch/pseuds/big_scrunch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gretschdoll/pseuds/Gretschdoll, https://archiveofourown.org/users/imlonelyalready/pseuds/imlonelyalready, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poputchikz/pseuds/Poputchikz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/urotsu/pseuds/urotsu
Summary: This is where stories in the TF2 pulp fan-magazine will be posted for easy reading!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly me! I forgot to add the link to the actual magazine! here it is: https://mercenarytales.tumblr.com/tagged/issue1 I hope you guys enjoy!!

> _"After a lot of hard work from dedicated fan-writers and artists, the TF2 Pulp fanzine is finally complete! The “Pulp” format was inspired by a type of cheap fiction magazine you might see around the time when TF2 takes place (but we did it even better— because ours is free. Chew on that, influential sci-fi and action writers of the 20th century!) The talented Oshii wanted to organize a project like this to prove that the creative spirit of the fan community is far from dead. That’s right, we swallowed all of Merasmus’s “Kill Me Come Back Stronger Pills,” and guess what. We swallowed them dry."_

\- Big_scrunch 


	2. ( Issue 1) Pauling's Day Off Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pauling decides to spend her only day off at a cozy mountain lodge during winter. While traveling, she encounters a person that just doesn't sit well with her.

Pauling leaned to situate her travel suitcase in the backseat of her rental Ford Falcon Vagabond. It had fallen from a tough break when she felt the wheels slide a bit too fast against the frozen ground. The car was parked to the side of the road and it bounced about once she settled back in her seat.

The stars hung in the night sky, but the moon was a sight to see— it was full and it gazed down on her with such lunar elegance, lighting the path to the mountain lodge despite all the snow. Just two hours from now, the next day will begin and it will be her only time off for the rest of the year. The further she drove, the more the industrial buildings began to cease with fields and country then emerging. Well, if one had no clue about the directions and area, they might not presume that it was the country and the fields they were passing by. The snow had dusted finely on top of the soil; however, the dark brown fence and unsaturated red barns made it easy to conclude the location, if observed more carefully. 

There had been a car that seemed to follow her way. At this point, the ground level was arising, which meant that whatever object was behind her would be darkened by the gloom of her car. It was midnight already and the ominous pursuit from just underneath the shadow of her Ford made her feel uneasy. With the reflection of the moonlight against her flesh, she pressed on. She went a bit past the speed limit, only to jut a distance away from the paranoia. The cars were visible between the branches and leaves of trees, birds gazed at the bright orange Ford and the blue car that followed it, both tailed with smoke coughed by their engines.. 

Eventually, when the Ford's shadow casted off the blue car, she was able to squint at the silhouette of the driver. It was a man with a large hat. He was garbed in a coat with shoulders so defined, if you touched the end, your finger would be pricked like the tragic Aurora. 

Miss Pauling had a habit of talking to herself.   
“What the hell?” She peeked at the side mirror. The small lady attempted to defuse herself. It wouldn’t have been too bad if he wasn’t wearing such malicious clothing. He resembled the Invisible Man, Pauling read the book as a child. And it wouldn’t be surprising either if he was seeing as he drove with no character, only straight forward. She began mindlessly tapping against the wheel while her mind aggressively brewed accusations. The uncertainty could be seen with the way her car slightly skewed side-to-side and the every now and then reflection of light from her glasses pointing at the left side mirror. Perhaps the Administrator decided that after Pauling’s misstep in a mission a couple of years ago was fatal enough that she’d have to be replaced now. But if it was so lethal, then she would have been fired and eliminated a long time ago. The ancient lady did not carry any silly personalities and what she did find humor in was usually grim. Pauling is sure to confirm the speculation as soon as she’s back to work. 

Soon enough, she was rolling throughout the Poe Mountain Lodge parking seeking a vacant spot. The trees were coated by snow, everything was. She felt chilly just by looking at all the white. By good fortune, she was able to find one space left and it was close to the entrance. The lot was well lit from the front but from the far left and right it was dim. Pauling noticed that due to the poor light, she failed to notice another open space positioned over to the distant left. One more car entered the lot and damn it all, it was the fella who was following her. His car, now that she was able to identify, was a blue Cadillac. When he began to head for the far away space, she snatched her travel suitcase and entered the lodge with such rapidity. 

  
  


There was a kid with pink zits all over and shaggy, blonde hair napping on the receptionist chair. A pin with his name engraved in it hung onto his loose shirt. Pauling stared for a short ten seconds and wondered whether to bother him or not. Chills ran throughout her when she looked back at the door, so she called his name. 

“ Huh?” the boy erupted his sleepy lids. “ How do you know my name?”

She pointed at his pin.

“ Oh, yeah. What can I do for ‘ya? Isn’t it a little too late to just be arriving?” he asked, glancing at the wall clock while rising to the counter. Besides the lively mini casino that played no music ( assuming the hour ) and barely occupied cafe, the floor was pretty empty.

Pauling looked behind her again, “ My name’s Pauling on the reservation list. Can I have the key? _I’m exhausted!”_ she admitted nervously. 

He gave her the key after looking through a list, “ Yeah, I bet.” 

“Thank you,” she said, seizing the key. She read the room number and walked off. 

“ Well, goodnight lady,” the boy retreated to his chair. He snuggled comfortably into the seat, subsequently crossing his arms and throwing his head back, preparing to submerge himself within the dreams again. Immediately after doing so, the door opened and closed a second time. This particular figure made him rise to his feet instantly. 

\------------------------  
  


Room 32 was layered with green wallpaper that had small rose patterns imprinted on it; the windows were laced with luxurious, crimson curtains; the bed bore a lengthy and fabulously thick blanket— which her freezing body lusted for. Pauling exhaled in relief, landing her back against the door to check if any footsteps could be heard. After she was absolutely sure, she slid off her coat and flung it to a chair in the corner. The organized stack of bedding was swayed into a mess once she engulfed in the sheets with tired anticipation. Her lids sealed tightly. 

Her eyes were closed. Yes, they’re closed. Her eyebrows feel a bit too still, she wormed them. The warmth of the pillow ran out—turn it and fluff it. For God’s sake now her body was _too_ warm, she stuck a leg out. What time is it?

**2:30 AM:** **  
**The difficulty of trying to sleep due to physical fatigue married with the resistance of her mentality to comply, caused her to find a way to _completely_ tire herself out. The lamp was left turned on and it lit up the suitcase beside her bed. Pauling was highly skilled in several fields but her most notable ability was the way she could execute any clearly stated orders. Recently, in a Secret Santa activity with the Mercenaries, she received a set of curlers from Engineer ( he wasn't sure what to give her) and disposing of them didn't feel ethical. So, she got up from the bed and unlatched the suitcase to retrieve the unopened box of generic brand curlers. To the bathroom she went. 

The whole process of rolling the hair in went by quite smoothly because of the written and illustrated instructions provided. How well it tired her out! That was the point, after all. Arms grew sore and weight began piling on the top of her shoulders. When the last bunch of hair was set, she tied a silk scarf around the rows of rolled hair across her scalp. At last, the lady finally settled down to rest her bones under the toasty blanket and over the soft mattress. In that instance, she finally fell asleep. 

**Chapter Two**

The cold air and the sunlight raced to her window, only the sun rays were able to pierce through, though. The intensity of the star was downplayed by the heavy clouds in the snowy mountain. It was a mellow kind of bright, the good type. Being wrapped in a blanket with cold air threatening the body- if one decided to rise, was somehow comforting. 

Unfortunately, her room was right above the Casino. For some perplexing reason, a jazz band was playing a particularly loud, obnoxious tune that punched right through the ceiling and into her room. 

Pauling had been brushing her hair, teasing it, watching as it merges into a styled mass.. She felt groggy and had forgotten how long she'd been taming her curled hair. She got up at 10 AM due to the clashing tunes below her. She felt pissed but not tired, the amount of sleep she received was more than what was normally acquired in a working day. Looking at the mirror, she ran the brush again and again, eyes shifting to the example lady on the curler box to compare. As she often did, she checked the time and _dear lord,_ she’s been brushing for thirty minutes. 

Her hair looked _good enough_ , she didn’t have the luxury to spend more time on it. After all, it’s her only day off for the year. She put on her purple slip and dress, shrugging her brown coat on. Time for eggs, toast, and black coffee. 

The boy that greeted her the night before was sitting next to the door now. His head jerked when he saw Pauling walk towards the cafe. 

“ Hey Miss Pauling!” he chimed, waving. 

“ Oh hi...Page,” she recalled, grinning awkwardly .” Why are you there now?”

“ Uhm, got caught sleeping last night,” he eyed the new person that sat in his old chair. It was still for a few seconds then he seemed to remember something, “ Oh yeah, I was told to—”  
Pauling spotted a very familiar hat protruding from the entrance of the casino, “ Well, it was nice catching up, Page, but I’m really hungry.” She hurriedly entered the cafe. 

It smelled like coffee beans and bread. Many of the seats had owners and the place was decorated and furnished just as beautifully as her room.....

**To be continued ( soon)..........**


	3. Pauling's Tips and Tricks to Efficiently Ridding Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woman with a tight bun and an even _tighter_ schedule sits down with writers and gives a walkthrough on disposing those pesky mercenary remains!

**"You’ve heard about shallow graves. Now get ready for INCINERATION!"**

Phase 1- Getting Started

These first steps are vital to any body disposal. Upon arriving at the scene, one must take precautions. “Assess your situation,” Pauling advised, “Ask yourself these important questions: Is the area still dangerous to you? Are there any witnesses around?” Of course, if the answer to either is ‘yes,’ it needs to be dealt with swiftly. Pauling prefers to secure the scene with something discreet such as a Remington Model 95.  


The writer for _Dapper Cadaver_ made the amateur mistake of asking Pauling about her choice of PPE (personal protective gear). The room erupted into laughter. Bless your ignorance, Tom. After a few chuckles, Pauling composed herself. “Personal contamination is one of the many risks you have to take. When a job needs done efficiently, there’s no time to follow the guidelines you’d follow at a hospital.”  


Once the area is safe, approach the victim(s). Tap them on the shoulder, or call out their name if you know them. If the victim is unresponsive or unconscious, check for a pulse. If you do not detect any sign of life… fantastic! Proceed. If there are still signs of life, Pauling recommends treating them with “a healthy dose of .45 cartridges.”

Phase 2- Incineration

“This is where it gets interesting. A lot can go wrong when burning a body, especially if you don’t have the right tools to do it.”

_** Pauling’s Items of Recommendation! ** _

•Something on wheels (ex: a wheelbarrow or moped)

•Large industrial garbage bags

•Gasoline & Diesel (amounts vary based on body count- avg. is around 4-6 gallons)

•Styrofoam (extra insulators are optional)

•Matches

•A sharp object that can break through bones (an axe is always a go-to!)

•A shovel

•A tarp

•A positive attitude ☺

“Incineration can be a technical process but it can pay off if done properly,” Pauling stated, “A step in the right direction is having a good place to burn!” Which leads us to the next step: _finding the perfect location!_ Some vital questions to ask are: _**‘Is this area away from the public eye?’** _ and _**‘Will the smoke or flames spread here?’** _ Try finding a remote place with nobody around to see or smell burning. “A place like the Badlands is a good spot. You had just better hope that we don’t run into each other there.”

Once you’ve found your location, it will be time to _dismember the body._ Spread the tarp out on the ground and place the body on top. Using your sharp tool, chop the evidence into pieces. This makes the remains easy to haul and also creates more space in the bag by condensing your ‘firewood.’ Careful! This process gets messy! “It’s smart to have a spare set of clothing to change into afterwards. But if that isn’t an option, cold water and hydrogen peroxide is great for getting out dried blood stains!”

Everything all cut up? Perfect! _Fill the garbage bags with parts._ Industrial-grade bags are the most reliable since they are made of stronger plastic. Once the victim is packed up, use the wheeled device to bring them to your chosen location. 

Before you burn the bags, make sure to use a mask! Breathing in all those fumes can cause illness. …What’s that? PPE is for babies? (We’re looking at you, Tom.) You’re right; a sleeve or loose cloth covering the nose and mouth should work just fine. 

_Douse the victim(s) with the gasoline and diesel,_ making sure to cover most of the bag. As previously stated, the average amount of diesel and gas to properly dispose of a body is around four to six gallons PER BODY. Once drenched, use matches to ignite multiple spots on the pile. 

“The human body is made up of about sixty percent water. I swear, we’re just walking swimming pools— anyways, they don’t burn on their own easily. And that is where styrofoam comes in handy,” Pauling explained. _Styrofoam is highly flammable, and it’s a big help if the fire is beginning to die down._ If there is more gas left over, use that to make the flame rise. Another important thing to note is that styrofoam can be used up easily when burnt, so Pauling advises bringing a lot of it or another insulator. Some kindling alternatives are newspapers, plywood, and sticks.

Phase 3- Wrapping Up

Incineration happens on its own once it is started. Now it’s just a matter of _controlling the flame and preventing spreading._ If the fire grows too big, smoke, smell, or spreading fire could attract attention. The smartest play is to keep the fire no larger than one a simple campfire _per body._ Unless told to do otherwise by higher authorities, keep the burning as lowkey but hasty as possible.

Ding! The ashes are done! What next? “Definitely bury them if you can.” Pauling recommended enthusiastically, “If not, then find a place to dump them. Leaving any sign that there was an unusual burning could be the end of the line for you.” If the ground is easy to break, use the shovel and dig a hole for the remains. Once buried, replace the dirt and pat down to fit in with the area around it.

Finally, time to deal with excess resources. There are two options: _finish burning the rest of the materials or THOROUGHLY clean up the scene._ “It’s better to finish burning any insulators you have left. Jerry cans and the sharp tool can come with you… Just make sure to clean them off if you plan on using it again.” Pauling still stresses the use of time management. “Once you’ve finished cleaning-- _**get the hell out of there!!”**_

What **NOT** To Do

Knowing what not to do is just as important as knowing what _should_ be done. “I can guarantee you I have done all of these at least once; trust me. They don’t work.” Listen to the doll; she’s got an evil look in her eyes. Please, she’s scaring the writers.

For starters, _**don’t burn a body without some sort of fuel.**_ “Without gas, you aren’t getting rid of anything; you’re just toasting the evidence.” The job would eventually be completed, but take a day’s worth of precious time. And the last thing anybody needs is corporate on their case because of misused time.

“ _ **Don’t try to cook food over the fire.**_ It never tastes good AT ALL. You should take prepackaged food along to eat away from the bodies.” Pauling proceeded to offer the staff a plate of an on-site favorite of hers, RED Bread brand granola bars. What a kind gesture! (Honestly, there was a strange sourness to them, but that is to be expected of RED products. A kind gesture nonetheless.) Tom urgently left the room to “wash-up” before Miss Pauling even finished talking, a rude display for a self-proclaimed “gentleman.” Oh Tom, you bastard.

Mann Co.’s company name embodies their whole mission statement: MANNliness! So therefore, _**don’t be a crybaby!**_ Gotta hide three bodies? Crying a river won’t save anyone, it is time to ‘mann’ up and take action. The faint-hearted don’t belong in this line of work. 

“We can’t forget the most important rule here: _**don’t get caught!**_ The Administrator drills this one into your head. She hates when there are extra witnesses that need to be dealt with. … I don’t like it either, really…”

“Getting rid of bodies _‘efficiently’_ may not be easy at first. It took a lot of trial and error to even get close to considering myself a professional.” The writers in the room droopily agreed. Like learning to ride a two-wheeled bike, or baking, getting rid of remains is an art that takes practice. “If all else fails, get your local Pyro to help you finish the job.”

(I repeat: do NOT eat RED Bread. Just those granola samples have everyone here woozy and nauseous, including myself. But I’m trying my best to hold it together, to not be rude, unlike these bastards dozing off in their seats.)

The administration’s lovely assistant has spoken. From the proper gear to step-by-step instructions, Pauling has provided you with all you need. Consider purchasing a Mann Co. body disposal kit, which contains all the supplies you should need. Happy ridding!

(It seems that while writing, all of my colleagues have fallen unconscious, some even falling to the floor… she’s smiling wh’ys she its al real ly blury .. tha t bit ~~ch~~

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
It was not unnatural to be in a room of unconscious folk. 

Not for Ms. Pauling, at least. 

Once that last writer scumbag tumbled to the ground, the woman in purple clicked her tongue in disapproval, surveying the scene before her.

The Administrator had been getting tired of these nosy weasels for a while now, and one of the few things she can appreciate is irony. She will be very pleased to hear about this.

A small knock came from outside the press room door. “Can I come in yet?” An agitated young voice called out.

“Yeah, they're all out cold.” Pauling assured. Without a second thought the door clicked open.

‘Tom’ now stood before the group of unresponsive columnists. 

“I see you sold the ‘free samples’ rather well, no?” A deeper and strangely accented voice broke out from the original one the young man spoke with.

“Of course. Just because they write papers doesn’t make them smart.” The woman spoke as she checked the small watch on her wrist. “Ah, shoot, we’re twenty minutes behind. This took longer than expected. I have no idea how I’m going to get rid of _all_ of these bodies on time.”

The man chuckled. “Perhaps you should take your own advice then. Is that not is why I am here?”

Relief washed over Pauling’s face after he spoke, “Exactly. Thanks, Spy.”

A small ring of smoke obfuscated Tom’s form, subsiding to reveal the suited man in the red mask. “Let’s get moving.”

The two began to drag each body out of the press room and load them into the van in front of the facility. When each victim was secured in the back, the two hopped in the vehicle. The engine revved up and they were on their way.

Pauling looked ahead at the open desert road, the cracked window running a gentle breeze through her hair. “Tragic that they died without knowing one of the most important steps,” she observed with a small breathy laugh.

“And what is that?”

 _“Find a trustworthy accomplice.”_ A smug look rested on her face.

Spy sighed and shook his head with a smile. “This process seems to be getting out of order. What was the first step again?” Sarcasm laced his tone.

“Well, it’s important to begin by assessing your situation…”

END


	4. Scout's Music Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now, ya might be wonderin’ what da big deal is wit having a good music taste anyways? Well, well, chucklehead, how else d’ya expect da ladies ta like ya? ...bein’ da amazin’ lady-killer dat I obviously am, I just so happen ta know _exactly_ what da ladies want. So _relax_ , ole’ Scout here’s got ya covered."

**Written by:** da Scout—da fastest, handsomest, _coolest_ guy ever ta ever grace da planet

Yo, thanks for readin’. If ya find yaself thinking, “Do I really need ta read this?”, just remember dat, yeah, ya _do_ , ‘cause ya music taste _sucks_. HAH. But, it’s just how da cookie crumbles, pally—ya ain’t got my awesome style, but don’t sweat it! Every drop o’ ink on dis page is pretty much da best advice ever; ya ain’t ever gonna find anythin’ betta. I’m gonna tell ya everythin’ ya need ta know ‘bout those tunes—‘cause grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and brotha… I _know_ music.

Now, ya might be wonderin’ what da big deal is wit having a good music taste anyways? Well, well, chucklehead, how else d’ya expect da ladies ta like ya? Ya can’t just rely on your looks, ‘cause, _wow_ , dere’re gonna need ta get ya a closed casket at da ugly cemetery, buddy. But, don’t panic—bein’ da amazin’ lady-killer dat I obviously am, I just so happen ta know _exactly_ what da ladies want. So _relax_ , ole’ Scout here’s got ya covered.

First things first doe, I gotta give ya da low-down; priceless intel—ya readin’ me? So, say some knucklehead comes up ta ya sometime an’ goes: “Yo, what’s betta: rock or disco?” Ya gonna wanna go, “Yo, numbnuts, dere _both_ good!” People think dat rock is da best, and some think dat disco is da best. Here’s a little secret between ya and me: dere’re BOTH good. Keep dat in mind!

**_Music Time, Babey..._**

Tom Jones is an absolute legend. Da man… he just… he _gets_ da ladies. Is dat girlie ya’ve got ya sights on a lady? Well, Mista Jones can clear dat up in his song “She’s a Lady”. If she is, do ya wanna talk ta her? Den, jus’ go “What’s New Pussycat”, y’know, like in da bop; dames eat dat shit up. And, if ya feelin’ a lil’ _somethin’_ more mushy den ya used to? Den Tommy-boy’ll tell ya “It’s Not Unusual”—a _great_ song, lemme tell ya, my ma loves it. Jus’ rememba, when in doubt, go wit Jonesy—he’s neva let me down!

Do ya want somethin’ a lil’ rougha? Den look no futha den da Ramones! Nothin’s betta den bonkin’ people wit my bat an’ listenin’ ta “Beat on the Brat”. It’s kinda satisfyin’ when ya crack heads ta da beat, I’ll tell ya dat much! It’s like _bam, bam, bam_! An’ when things need ta get a lil’ _crazier_ on da battlefield, “Blitzkrieg Bop” gets dat party _goin’_ again.

While we’re on da rock an’ roll road, anotha smashin’ band ya should know ‘bout is Led Zeppelin! Man, do yaself a favor, listen ta “What is and What Should Never Be”—dat song will change ya life, fair warnin’. An’, who could eva forget “Good Times Bad Times”? An absolute banga! 

Are ya dancin’ yet? Well, if ya aren’t, the Bee Gees will tell ya “You Should Be Dancing”. And, y’know, ya should totally listen ta dem. An’ how could I forget? Anotha disco need-ta-know is “Shinin’ Star” by Earth, Wind, and Fire. In my experience, da ladies love ta dance wit ya ta dis one. I would definitely know dis. Trust me. 

An’, for da finale, ya should _absolutely_ know ‘bout “Play That Funky Music” by Wild Cherry. Shit, man, even doe it’s a new song—it came out in April o’ dis year, didn’tcha know?—it’s one o’ da best I’ve mentioned. I’d even say it’s nearly up dere with Jonsey boy’s stuff! But just rememba: _no_ one can beat Tom Jones. Ya should know dis by now!

**_Congrats, call yaself a music genius!_**


End file.
